The Brownie Incident
by natcat5
Summary: The reason there are no longer snacks allowed in World Meetings. Because while Canada makes great pancakes, his brownies are not to be trusted. WARNINGS inside.


**There has been so much mention of Canada's 'special brownies' in the Hetalia fandom that I thought this was necessary. Plus it was fun.  
This is kind of a sidestory to When They Know by rchcc122. Not exactly, but a line in chapter 4, 'why Canada, Holland, and/or Prussia are no longer allowed to make brownies for the meetings.' totally inspired me to write this. XD **

**WARNINGS: Some language, (unintentional) drug use, nudity, bad-mouthing of trains and monkeys, etc.**

**The Brownie Incident**

Yet another World meeting.

America sat miserably in his chair, slumped over with his arms folded over his stomach. The organ in question was gurgling pathetically; making agonized, pleading sounds to its owner. _Begging _for some sustenance.

America whimpered and curled up, wrapping his arms around tighter, trying to block out the pitiful noises and the hungry pangs.

It was at least another 45 minutes until the next break, until he would be able to use his Blackberry to find the nearest McDonald's and run there as fast as he could. (This was the problem with places that weren't America. You actually had to _look _for a McDonald's). He didn't think he could make it. He was in danger of his stomach gnawing on his intestines.

America turned towards the nation sitting beside him, England, who was staring impassively at Belgium, the one currently speaking.

"Iggy," he whispered, nudging the older country with his elbow. "Psst. Iggy!"

England's eyebrow twitched and he made a big show of turning his head away from the American, hands clenching into fists.

"_Iggy!" _

"Dammit America, _what?_" hissed England, whipping his head around to face the other nation with a glare. He was met with large blue eyes staring sorrowfully at him, a small pout causing America's bottom lip to protrude pitifully. England's expression softened and he sighed, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

"What Alfred," he asked in a softer tone, "What is it?"

"Artie," whined Alfred, lip quivering, "I'm _hungry_."

Arthur's green eyes hardened and he gave America an absolutely withering glare.

"No food in the meetings America. Never again. Wait until the break."

"But-,"

"Brownie incident."

America's mouth immediately snapped shut, and he turned away from his former caretaker with a blush on his cheeks.

Oh, right. The Brownie Incident.

The reason they were no longer allowed to bring snacks into meetings.

The reason Canada didn't let him anywhere near his fridge.

The reason Canada, Prussia, and the Netherlands were no longer allowed to cook together.

_That _Brownie Incident.

_A few years previous…_

"A vegetable platter?" shrieked Alfred, hands clutching his head in disbelief. "A _vegetable _platter? You've got to be kidding me!"

Matthew rolled his eyes at his brother's melodramatic reaction and finished covering the huge dish with tinfoil.

"Just because you avoid healthy food like the plague doesn't mean the rest of the world does," he said curtly, ignoring his brother's agonized wails. "Come on, since you're crashing at my place instead of staying at the Hotel like the rest of the countries, the least you can do is help me. Go put this in the car."

"Prussia's staying here too! How come he doesn't have to help?" defended America with a pout. Canada turned his head and gave him a withering look. "Are you really asking that question?" he asked with narrowed violet eyes. "It's because I actually _like _Prussia."

And with that parting shot, the Canadian turned on his heel and marched out of the kitchen, tossing a still pouting America the car keys over his shoulder. Alfred caught them easily, muttering rebelliously as he did. Really Matthew's patience had gone out the window these last few days. Probably the stress of hosting the meeting, as well as having to host that crazy Prussian. Ah, well, at least he had his heroic brother here with him!

Sighing, the American turned back towards the disgusting food platter, glad that his brother had at least had the decency to hide the offending food morsels from his sight.

"Stupid health-crazed Canadian," he muttered angrily, easily picking up the huge platter and making his way towards the door. As he walked through the kitchen, he passed by the fridge. Alfred paused, noticing that the door was still open.

"And people blame _me _for destroying the Ozone layer," he muttered, moving over to kick the door shut.

Then he noticed something.

Curiosity piqued, Alfred put the vegetable platter down and walked towards the fridge, opening it wider to see what the source of the glimpse of chocolate brown he had seen was.

His eyes widened.

There, on the bottom shelf of the fridge, were the largest, most delicious looking brownies on the face of the Earth. America stared at them, eyes wide and full of longing and a waterfall of drool coming from his mouth.

_Eats healthy my ass! That little closet pig! _

Pouting, Alfred resolved that his brother was a sneaky, greedy little bastard and deserved to be punished for hiding such delicious junk food from him.

What better way to get back at him than to eat those mouth-wateringly chocolate squares of goodness?

Grinning evilly, America pulled the tray out of the fridge, setting it on the counter beside the offensive vegetable platter. As he was pulling the caranwrap off of the dish, he noticed belatedly that the dish with the brownies and the dish with the vegetables were exactly the same.

*_lightbulb* _

Alfred blinked a few times, stunned by the sheer _awesomeness _of the idea he had just had, before picking up the vegetable tray and stuffing it in the fridge on the bottom shelf, where the brownies had been. Then, he took the tin foil that was still sitting on the counter and began covering the brownie platter, cackling excitedly to himself.

_Oh YES. No way I'm eating disgusting healthy food for a snack! Brownies rule, man! I can't believe Matt was hiding these in the fridge! Why hoard when you could share these delicious morsels with the rest of the world? Nufufufu~! No worries, the hero is on it! _

Alfred hummed excitedly to himself as he finished wrapping the dish, grinning at his masterpiece.

"Al! Please tell me you're not still in the kitchen glaring at the vegetables. It's time to go!"

Matthew's irritated voice pierced through Al's gloating, and the American shook his head to focus, picking up the platter with another grin.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry Matt, you caught me. Don't worry, I'm putting them in the car now!"

"You BETTER be."

Chortling happily to himself, Alfred walked out of the kitchen, smiling at the sounds of Matthew trying to kick Gilbert out of the bathroom and into the car.

_Ahahaha! This meeting isn't going to suck after all! _

**Xoxoxoxo**

It was the part of the meeting that everyone loathed. The part right between the first break and lunch. Where whatever snack they had eaten at 10:00 had warn off, and the first vestiges of hunger and irritation set in. Before, in the time between 10:00 and 1:30, when they had lunch, the nations could be caught snacking at a multitude of times during the meetings, often disturbing discussions. It got worse when they'd bring in offensive things, like when America brought in a ham sandwich and was almost burnt to a crisp by the evil looks he was getting from Egypt. They'd rectified this situation a while back, deciding that whoever hosted the meeting would bring in an appropriate snack for the nations to eat at 12:00, ensuring that irritableness and fidgeting would be held at bay until the lunch break an hour and a half later. The instigation of an allotted snack time was rather kindergarten, but the nations of the world truly weren't much better than 3 year olds.

It was 12:00 now, and the nations were all eyeing the platter on the table near the door. Particularly a certain American.

"…and that concludes our discussion on the environment," said Germany, clearing his throat. "Any questions?"

There was silence around the table and Germany sighed, waving his hand airily. "Alright, fine, fine. Go get your snack and get back here so we can continue."

There was a general sense of relief as the nations all got up quickly and moved to the snack table in a huge rush.

America hummed happily to himself as he walked over to the table, envisioning himself biting into one of those chocolaty, sweet, succulent, pieces of goodness…

"Alfred."

America was jolted out of his daydream roughly as he felt someone tap on his shoulder. "Whaaaat?" he snapped, whirling around irritably. "Oh. Hey, Matt." Matthew rolled his eyes at his brother and tugged on his sleeve, motioning towards the door. "Can we talk?"

Alfred blinked, torn between the delicious brownies mere feet away, or talking to his brother, who hadn't seemed to want much to do with him lately.

Dammit! Why did family always have to come before food?

"Alright, let's talk," said Alfred with a sigh, following Matthew, who gave him a small smile.

**Xoxoxoxox**

Prussia walked back to his seat, yawning and rubbing his eyes with one hand, the other holding a small plate with a rather large brownie sitting on top of it.

Damn, Canada was seriously bitchy in the morning. He'd literally _kicked _him out of bed. And then down the stairs. And then he'd repeatedly flushed the toilet to get him out of the shower! _And _he'd given him 'the look'. The Look that Canada _knew _scared the living shit out of him. And West. It scared Ludwig too. France, recognizing the look when he'd seen it, called it the 'Vimy Ridge Look', and loved seeing its effect on Germany and Prussia.

Gilbert did not appreciate being given that look. Whenever he received it he had nightmares about 'Canada's hundred days' for weeks. No. He did not appreciate that look at all.

Prussia sat down in his chair with a sigh, glad that they had decided to create these breaks.

And, _damn, _this brownie smelt good!

…Wait.

Prussia peered closely at the chocolate treat, bringing the plate close to his face and sniffing experimentally.

…_Oh shit. He brought _these _brownies? _

Gilbert pulled the plate away from his face with a shocked look, turning to the side to lock gazes with Lars. The Netherlands grinned back, looking at his own brownie gleefully before leaning back in his chair and mouthing something at the Prussian.

It looked like something along the lines of: _Things just got a lot more fun. _

Prussia grinned and began biting at his own brownie.

He had to agree there. It was fun enough when it was just the three of them. It would be freaking _hilarious _if it were the entire _world._

_Good idea Birdie, _thought Gilbert as he leaned back enjoying the laid back feeling already stealing over him. _Though I never thought you would bring in _these_ brownies to a world meeting. _

**Xoxoxo **

Alfred opened the doors to the conference room, walking in with a wide grin on his face. When his brother had summoned him outside, he had to admit, he was expecting to be verbally abused. Instead, he got a sincere apology from Matthew, who felt quite bad at having been constantly bitching at his brother lately.

_All is right with the world once more, _he thought as he walked towards the snack table. _I'm about to get my brownie on, and Matt isn't mad at me- _

"WHAT THE HELL IS EVERYONE EATING?"

…._wasn't mad at me. _

"America!"

Alfred turned around regretfully, looking at his brother who looked…not angry but…panicked?

"Wh-what happened to the vegetables?" shrieked Canada, looking around frantically at everyone eating the brownies.

"They were boring," said Alfred, feeling slightly scared by the panic his brother seemed to be in, "So I got the brownies from the fridge-,"

"THOSE WEREN'T NORMAL BROWNIES!"

Alfred winced and wilted slightly. Canada didn't yell. Canada whispered. Quietly.

"What do you mean they weren't-,"

"I made those with Lars and Gilbert!"

Alfred froze, finally taking in the cause of Canada's panicked expression.

"You-you made those with..."

Slowly, the American turned to face the table, where most of the nations had finished the brownies and were returning to discussions…

…Or, that's what they _should_ have been doing….

England loosened his necktie, blinking rapidly as he did. "Is it hot in here?" he muttered, half to himself. "It seems hot in here. Is it hot in here?"

"Ohon~" laughed France, leaning back in his chair with a dazed expression on his face. "Ohonhonhonhonhonhonhonhonhon~,"

"The ceiling!" exclaimed Austria, clutching his face in horror, "It's PURPLE! WHY IS IT PURPLE?"

"I. Love. These. Brownies-hic," hiccupped China, swaying back and forth. "R-reminds me of the good old days-hic! Opium dens-hic! Remember Arthur?"

"….so hot…" mumbled England, beginning to unbutton his dress top.

"Oh…" said Japan softly, his pupils dilating to the point that his eyes looked like a sea of really dazed black. "OH…."

"F-f-f-f-f-f-AHAHAHAHAHA!" Romano burst into laughter, rocking back and forth with his feet up on his chair.

"The world is all swirly~ It's blue and green~ And pullow, and orred, and blay~" slurred Italy, head bobbing forwards and backwards.

"…why am I wearing clothes…?" mumbled England, undoing the last button.

"Sunflowers~" cooed Russia, spreading his arms wide and then bringing them close to him, as if gathering a large bunch of flowers to him. "So pretty~"

"…..*snort*….." Germany covered his mouth with his hand, an uncharacteristic smile on his face, "…..*giggle*….."

"Oh…" said Hungary, staring pensively off into the distance, "So THAT'S what it is…"

"…gotta get these clothes off…" muttered England, beginning to pull his shirt off his body.

"They were…" said America weakly, watching the proceedings with wide eyes, "….pot brownies?"

Canada nodded weakly, before covering his face with his hands. "…My boss is going to kill me…I just got the world high…"

As a fucking cloud.

"Dude this is like, like, like, _da ze~" _giggled Korea, attempting to spin his chair in a circle and only succeeding in causing both him and it to fall over.

Norway hiccupped, shook his head, laughed twice, and fell over.

"Oh no! Norway died!" exclaimed Denmark in horror, "W-we need a funeral guys! Like, really, a funeral! Guys! A funeral! Guys! Guys!"

Iceland stared into the distance, slack-jawed. "S'okay…" he mumbled quietly, "He's real cool so…..we can…leave him…don't need a funeral….can just…stick him in the snow…like an eggplant…or a goose…"

Sweden had taken his glasses off and as cleaning them rigorously with his shirt. "M n't seein' b'nnies…" he mumbled, glaring at the offending lenses, "Sh'ld be seein' b'nnies…"

Finland was sobbing, clutching Hanatamago to him tightly. "And…and then…and then…the GRASS ATE IT!" he cried, bawling his eyes out.

Spain tilted his head to the side, brow furrowed in concentration. "The train's not going fast enough," he said, clearly, "That train is too slow. Bad train. Bad, bad train."

"Bad trains? Bad MONKEYS!" exclaimed Belgium, who was sitting beside Spain. Antonio just glared at her, while Poland, who was on her other side, burst into laughter. Lithuania, sitting beside Poland, was currently staring at the vase of flowers in front of him, intent on discovering whether it was male or female.

"D-do you know who I am?" snapped Estonia angrily, "I-I am freaking EPICSTONIA. I-I pimpslap computers! What, bitches? WHAT?" **(1) **

"Oh yeah?" challenged Latvia, "I can out drink a Kangaroo when it's felting pails in Nebraska!"

"Seriously?" inquired Australia with wide eyes, "Crikey…" Beside him, Vietnam continued stroking the Aussie's head, muttering to herself as she did.

Greece was on the floor, rolling back and forth on the carpet with a content look on his face, twitching every so often and making a sound that sounded suspiciously like purring… **(2)**

"I-can't-stop-talk-why-can't-must-stop-talking-," spluttered Egypt, trying to quell the sudden flood of words coming from his mouth.

"My fingers!" screamed Thailand, staring at his hands in horror. "I CAN'T SEE MY FINGERS!"

Hong Kong tilted his head to the side, then to the other side, then back to the first side, then to the other once more…

"I just noticed…" said Ukraine with wide eyes, "I…have huge breasts…"

"And I'm a sociopath with a brother complex!" sobbed Belarus.

"I'm a three eyed billy goat in a flat bed truck in the middle of Manhattan," mumbled Turkey.

"DID YOU JUST QUOTE HANNAH MONTANA?" screeched Taiwan.

"Spank him! Spank him now!" shouted Cuba.

England, having just finished tugging off his last sock, looked down at himself and sighed.

"Bloody hell," he cursed softly, "There's nothing else to take off…"

"This is…this is horrible!" exclaimed America, watching the proceedings in horror (and some interest and appreciation when it came to Arthur). "Matt, how long does this stuff last- Matt? Matt?"

"So," said Canada, sitting down in between Lars and Gilbert and eating the last bits of brownie off of his fingers, "Who do you think came first? The dinosaur, or the unicorn?"

"Unis bitches," slurred Gilbert.

"Neither," said Lars, shaking his head. "It was the jackalope."

All three burst into cackling laughter, adding to the cacophony of noise already saturating the once relatively peaceful meeting room.

"Oh, well," thought America, turning back to the remaining brownies with a pensive look on his face. "If you can't beat 'em…"

**I apologize if this humourous take on drug usage offended anyone. **

**I, myself, have never been anywhere _near _pot so if the effects aren't quite like this...well, the nations were crazy enough before. This just pushed them over the edge. **

**(1) BLOOOODBAAAAAATH F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5F5 (Why aren't Parallel!Spain, Parallel!America, and Parallel!France in Fanfiction's character listings yet?) **

**(2) This is what my cats do when we give them cat nip...**

**So, yeah, sorry if I offended anyone, but I've read SO MANY FICS referencing Canada's brownies...it had to be done. It just had to be done. **

**... **

**Review? S'il vous plait? **


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